Breachers

Breachers – Path of Steel

39

I

Night Terror

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Back in the crowded pub, Marcus, Felix, and his sister sat around a worn-out table a few hours after Marcus had passed his written exam. The air buzzed with the hum of conversations, clinking glasses and the occasional angry shout from Sam, the bar owner, whenever someone dropped a glass or complained about the wrong sports team scoring a point. Marcus scooped up another spoonful of red curry, savoring the burst of flavors—garlic, ginger, and lemongrass—that danced on his taste buds. As he enjoyed the meal, his friend fired off another barrage of questions about the exam, but Marcus just kept eating until it got annoying, forcing him to mumble with a full mouth, “This is really good, Felix”, intentionally interrupting his friend mid-sentence.

“Stop being annoying.” Joline casually swatted Marcus’s shoulder, shaking her head. “Surprisingly, this neanderthal did fine. And about the second exam tomorrow? That’s a whole different ball game. It’s like taking your driving tests—the written portion is fine, but once you’re on the road, it gets real. Although, in my brother’s case, I think the written part was the biggest challenge.” Marcus raised an eyebrow in response, hearing his friend and sister chuckle at his expense.

“And you never had to take it... at all?” Felix inquired, prodding at his meal, plucking out bits of chicken and green beans.

Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she shook her head. “Never had to. Originals were Breachers long before any official rules and regulations popped up. After all, people like me invented the profession,” she said with a proud smile while playing with her chopsticks as she fished around in her meal.

Felix's brow furrowed in thought before he asked another question, “But they never considered having you guys just take the test, like, even years later? You know, to keep things uniform?” Joline burst into laughter at his suggestion, and he couldn’t help but grin along.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” she said, wiping  away a tear before signaling to Sam for a refill. “That’s never going to happen... at all. Can you imagine it? Some hardcore Original freak that’s been a Breacher for 13 years, slaughtering monsters by the thousands, saving people and destroying Spheres, and suddenly a pencil pusher comes along and starts demanding that he take a written test? Screw that.” She grinned when Sam placed two fresh beers on their table and a water, muttering that he was too tired to charge them for it before the old man left them again to deal with another customer. “That his way of congratulating my brother?” she asked Felix, seeing the man grin and nod. “Nice.”

“But the exams do serve a purpose, right?” Felix pondered, adjusting his beer to be a bit more strategically closer to his meal. “I mean, with all the Forged popping up nowadays.”

Joline gave a nod, “Yeah, it has a use. I can’t vouch for other countries before the Great Impact, but here in the Netherlands, with the exception of the army and the police, hardly anyone owned a gun here. So the first few Breachers here were using whatever they could get their hands on or relied on their Abilities in the beginning. That or they worked closely with armed forces.” Her eyes fixated on her beer, as if remembering something unpleasant. “I still remember the chaos and desperation we all faced during that time. But now, we’ve got a lot of new Breachers and plenty of fancy gear and equipment to play around with. Well... provided you’ve got the license for it. Sadly, that also means there’s a way bigger chance for friendly fire and other accidents. So, we’ve got tougher exams in place for all those newer folks who haven’t gone through the crucible for years on end like us Originals had to.” She took a large gulp of beer before leaning back with a smile. “So yeah, the exams have a function. Be it the basic Breacher exam, or the advanced ones to be allow you to get a license to carry guns, mortars, mines, and specialized equipment.”

Felix shifted his focus back to Marcus, watching as his friend finished his meal and obsessively scrape his plate clean. “Dude, stop eating like a pig.”

“Ever seen a pig use a knife and fork?” Marcus shot back, snatching his glass of water and gulping down half of it, emitting a satisfied sound afterward and giving his belly a friendly pat. “And it’s your own fault for making us such a tasty meal.”

Felix shook his head, grabbed a napkin, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it in a slow arc against Marcus’s head. “So, senior piggy... it’s settled then? You’re actually going to jump into this Breacher thing?”

Marcus glanced at his sister, noticing the calm yet uneasy smile on her face as she nodded. ‘I would’ve preferred if she was just pissed off with me, like Martin and uncle Laurens. I mean, anger I can deal with.’ He took another sip of his water before responding, “I guess so. Or at least see if it’s something I want to do,” Marcus lied, knowing full well he’d go through with it. “But I wouldn’t mind tagging along with a few more shifts with you, seeing as I need the credit,” he added as he watched his friend’s smile lit up before shifting his gaze to his sister. “Seeing as I am going to pay off my sister’s debt to her crappy guild. All of it.”

Joline rolled her eyes at the bold statement. “Speaking off unrealistic dreams and fairytales. What’s yours, Felix?” she asked, leaning back against the bar.

“Honestly? Having the food truck and a stable income is already great. I mean, it’s more than I dared to hope for a few years ago,” he admitted, nervously picking at the paper coaster beneath his beer, tearing bits of it off. “But... my dream, if I were to blurt it out like this, is to run a company at one point. Have some employees, etc. Possibly something in logistics. I know, it sounds stupid coming from a burger flipper and taco stuffer like me, but—”

“Dreams are never stupid,” Joline remarked, studying Felix for a moment. “For most of us, it’s all we really have. Besides, didn’t you get a degree in business management or something?”

“Degree, no,” Felix replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I put in a few years, and came close to getting the degree. But it didn’t fit with my financial situation at the time,” Felix explained, putting on a happy mask and taking a sip of beer. “Who knows? Perhaps I’ll pick it up again at one point. What about you?”

“Squad leader,” the woman simply stated, earning a raised eyebrow from her brother. “What? It’s good money, and I don’t have to listen to douchebags... or at least not the current one.”

The three of them shared some more stories and laughter, enjoying their drinks, with Sam even joining them for a few minutes and sharing the tale of how he and Felix had first crossed paths and the various weird things that had happened in his pub in the last few years. Marcus and Joline even helped move a few full kegs for the old man, with Joline just holding two at a time as if they weighed nothing to her. After about an hour, Marcus checked the time on his phone before letting out a soft whistle. “Alright, you kids have fun. I’m hitting the hay early. The survival exam is at ten and I could use the sleep before I get my head kicked in tomorrow.” Joline snorted at the comment, muttering something under her breath that sounded a lot like ‘drama queen’, which Marcus wisely ignored. “I take it I’m off house arrest after passing the first part of the exam? Because I’m really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again.”

“The family head graciously approves,” Joline remarked, pulling the chain from behind her shirt. She made a mock religious gesture in the air, muttering some gibberish that sounded like improvised Latin. Afterward, she let go of the chain and nodded. “Get some rest. And don’t worry about the passing out tomorrow and missing the ass kicking. I’ll be recording it all.”

After a sarcastic slow nod, Marcus got up and finished his water, giving Felix a fist bump and tapping it twice before ordering another round of beers for his friend and his sister. After that, he left the bar and climbed the stairs up to his apartment. He unlocked the door and stepped into his living room, inhaling the scent of the old room. ‘It feels a bit weird being back after all this time. Still, I shouldn’t be complaining. My family could’ve demanded a lot more from me after I got caught wandering in a Sphere... or the fact that I was without contact for two whole days not long after I got discharged from the hospital.’ The thought lingered as he quickly moved toward the bedroom, unlocking one of the closets where his steel companion had always hidden itself. Slowly opening the closet, he discovered nothing but his laptop. “Why did I even get my hopes up?” he muttered before stepping back and letting out a heavy sigh. “Specter had enough charge for a few hours, not days.” He stared at the empty closet before he forced himself to move to his bathroom to go and brush his teeth. ‘It’s probably still in that junkyard, unconscious in some pile of scrap. I’ll start looking for Specter tomorrow after I get my license. Perhaps it’s still near the tower that contained the Orb, or could it be inside the old van?’ He kicked off his shoes, leaving a trail of discarded clothes on the floor as he made his way to his bedroom, before flopping onto the bed like a tired warrior after battle. ‘Was that even Specter that I saw on that tower of dirt and metal? It had to be, right?’ Closing his eyes, he went over his last conversation with the robot, grappling with the anger and shame that he had felt back then. ‘I’m trying, Specter,’ Marcus thought, replaying his actions from the last few days. Since then he had pushed himself to appear more mature, constantly battling to suppress his anger, keeping it on ice and contained. ‘I’ll find you as soon as I can,’ he vowed before his phone vibrated. Slowly grabbing it, he glanced at the screen, revealing another text message.

┏                                                                                                                  ┓

“Rumor has it an OG took a written exam and passed today.

Congratulations on the first part.

I’ve also heard you’ve got your second test lined up tomorrow.

I’ll send someone to help you out.”

- Benedict

┗                                                                                                                  ┛

After reading the message twice, Marcus let his hand fall onto the mattress with his phone before switching it off with a heavy sigh. ‘Great, just what I needed... veiled blackmail, monitering and even more pressure.’ He closed his eyes, lying there for an extended moment, processing the weight of it all. Slowly, he drifted into a restless sleep, thoughts of tomorrow brewing in his mind as his fears for the ‘survival’ aspect of the exam started to manifest in his dreams.

Suddenly, he snapped awake, a pillow pressed hard against his mouth. Panic surged as he struggled against it, lashing out with his arms and legs. “Relax,” a familiar deep voice said, while a steel finger flicked Marcus’s nose. “It’s me.”

Marcus froze as he recognized the voice, his heart beating like an epileptic drummer. He watched as the robot leaned over him, slowly lifting the pillow away. “Specter? How?” His eyes widened when he saw the robot move back and help him sit up in bed, their bodies still touching. “Why aren’t we syncing up?”

Specter slowly leaned in closer, pressing a single steel finger against the top of Marcus’s head without anything happening. “Because I didn’t want us to,” Specter said before an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Suddenly, Marcus felt the connection reestablish as he began to remember days’ worth of information about how Specter had survived. He suddenly recalled how the robot had heard Marcus fend off the one-armed Breacher, only to see him get shot down by another man within the Sphere. Marcus could feel how Specter then had been tempted to run down and help him, but had realized just how severely outclassed they both were. He felt the desperation that Specter had experienced, recalling the robot’s belief that creating a bigger distraction was the only way to help him out at that moment. Memories flashed—Specter sprinting as fast as its motors allowed, rushing toward the massive tower and scaling it before crawling through a gap. Chaotic images followed: dozens of monsters guarding the tower’s interior, others grotesquely forming in sacks containing the strange liquid. Specter had clawed and climbed up within the tunnels of the tower, searching for the Orb within as monsters swarmed the robot from every angle, clawing at its steel and plastic frame. Minutes had passed like that before Specter had found the Orb within the center of the structure, suspended by large pulsating tendrils that seemed to go on forever. Marcus shuddered as he remembered how it had felt tearing the Orb free and rushing up through the tunnels, the once-deafening screams of monsters behind it gradually giving way to dying hisses as they fell to the ground one by one.

Waves of even more memories crashed into him, overwhelming his mind with a torrent of images. His head throbbed, struggling to make sense of the onslaught, the pain intensifying until, suddenly, the memories ceased. He panted, feeling how tense his sweat covered body was. Marcus shook his head a few times to shake off the mental fatigue as he noticed Specter stepping back, its camera fixed on him. A shredded black raincoat clung to Specter’s dirt-covered, blood-crusted robotic frame. “You really went through hell, huh? Just experiencing it through you was intense. Wait, how are you still even active?” Marcus asked, blurting out the last part. In response, Specter just lifted the raincoat, exposing the hole in its torso with a second Orb visible there, connected by glowing blue veins. Marcus’s eyes widened at the sight, his mind racing to grasp the implications.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Marcus. But first, I’m going to need your help with something,” Specter said before throwing a few pieces of clothing towards Marcus.

“Sure,” Marcus said, rising and clumsily grabbing the first bit of clothing, his mind still reeling from the bizarre situation. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, extending his hand for Specter to grab and share their thoughts again, only to be met with a shake of the robot’s head.

"No," came the robot's response as it walked toward the doorway, a glance thrown over its shoulders. "It’s better if I show you. Just trust me."

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Copyright: OsiriumWrites